


Sinking

by orphan_account



Category: White Collar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All things end eventually. We have no control over that. What we hope to have control over is when we come to an end. However, as the Burkes learn, sometimes that control is wrested from us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinking

It is not very often that Peter has found himself in a hospital, and never for a good reason. This time was no different. But when he visited a hospital, it was usually to interrogate a witness or suspect. A couple of times for broken bones and sprains, minor injuries like that. But this time was different. Now, the patient was not just a name, with a few lines of background. 

"Peter?" A voice asked, from a distance. 

"Yes?" Peter said, snapping back to the world, but still reeling from what he had heard. 

"Did you hear what I said" The voice belonged to one of Peter's old friends, who was now an oncologist. He looked at Peter with a concerned and solemn expression. 

"Y-yes" Peter said, composing himself. "I'm just...is there anything we can do?"

"If it were a more minor case, yes. But this is...I'm afraid there isn't anything we can do to stop it. At best, we can delay it."

Peter brought his hands to his forehead, and slowly ran them down his face. He couldn't believe that this was happening. "How long until...without treatment?"

The doctor pulled a sheet out of his file "About two months. The higher brain functions will begin to deteriorate in about a month, however." 

Peter could feel tears building up in his eyes. "And, with treatment"

"Well, treatment would be able to prevent the deterioration of brain tissue for another 3 months or so. However, it will be painful." The doctor admitted. 

Peter sighed, then stood up and extended his hand "Well...thank you. We will be in touch." The doctor shook Peter's hand, a look of remorseful understanding in his eyes. Peter opened the door and stepped into the waiting room. He looked around, and saw two people sitting next to each other, one trying to encourage the other, fill her with hope. When they heard the door open, both looked at Peter. One's face was a mixture of fear and hope, of gazing into the abyss and frantically shielding their eyes from it. The other one looked like he had aged twenty years in the time Peter had had that conversation. Peter managed to force a weak smile, but they knew that it was desperate, a small flame against the swallowing shadows. Neal stood up, leaving El by the bench, and walked up to Peter. Before they even spoke a word, Neal saw the resignation on Peters face, the marks on his hands where he had clenched his fists, and the drops still stuck in his eyes. 

"Oh god" Neal said. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." They then both turned to face El, who by now had figured out the results of the test. "El..." Neal said, the final nail in the coffin of her deductions. 

"How long do I have?" She asked.


End file.
